Twisted Loaf: Half Baked

Comedy on a knife edge from edgy and unpredictable duo

The first thing that will flash through your mind as you stagger out of Half Baked is: ‘what the fuck have I just witnessed?’. Your mind will be struggling to comprehend the barrage of weirdness that has filled the last hour. Opening with probably the most unexpected entrance at this year’s Fringe, Twisted Loaf are a fearless female double act. Libby Northedge is statuesque and aloof while Nina Smith often plays the idiotic fool as they invade the audience with their madness. The tiny studio space at the Counting House can barely contain the physicality of their grotesque creations.

You have to admire their total commitment. Scenes featuring a ballet, some horsey poshos and an overly-sexualised home-help are among their most coherent sketches. But none of this is in any way conventional: there’s no beginning, middle or end, they’re more snippets of situations, extreme characters, songs and even mime.

Reminiscent of John Kearns’ award-winning Fringe debut Sight Gags for Perverts, this patently isn’t for everyone. Half Baked balances on a knife edge of genius and mental illness. Uncomfortable and dark, it will alienate as many as it enthrals. Edgy, dangerous, disturbing, confusing and completely unpredictable.